


Dragon's Toy Lair

by leontina (Leontina)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Harry Potter, Cats, Christmas, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Coming Out, First Kiss, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, M/M, toy shop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 18:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21582823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leontina/pseuds/leontina
Summary: Harry goes looking for a Christmas present for Hugo, and finds so much more than that
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 8
Kudos: 169
Collections: Harry/Draco Owlpost 2019





	Dragon's Toy Lair

**Author's Note:**

> Written as a gift for Nifflers as part of the HD Owl Post :) Something short and sweet for the festive period ^_^

The wind howled loudly, carrying with it a fresh flurry of freezing snow. Harry winced at the onslaught, pulling his scarf tighter around the lower half of his face to try and block out some of the cold. 

The high street was almost entirely empty, home to only Harry and a few other last-minute shoppers who had no choice but to brave the blizzard on Christmas Eve. Afternoon was already drawing on, and the sun had now gone and been replaced with the dull darkness of winter. Some shops still had vibrant yellow lights shining through their windows, while others were black; the owners closed early to be with their loved ones. 

Thankfully the shop that Harry wanted still looked like it was open, the golden glow in the window illuminating carefully crafted doll’s houses and wooden soldiers painted in bright, cheerful colours. 

Not having children of his own, Harry loved to spoil his godchildren, but Teddy had always been an outdoorsy kid, and Rose was a bookworm like her mother, and neither of them shared Harry’s love of finely crafted wooden toys. Harry had greatly lacked toys through his childhood, but he did have some semi-melted plastic soldiers, and a handsome wooden nutcracker that Dudley had thrown out after he smashed the face in. Harry had fished the toy out of the bin and stolen his uncle’s superglue to piece the face back together, and he’d treasured it for years.

Hugo was five now, and he was the first of Harry’s godchildren to actually be interested in classic toys and Harry planned to indulge him in that. He’d planned, of course, to buy Hugo’s Christmas presents a lot earlier, but Harry wasn’t the most organised of people, and the next thing he knew it was Christmas Eve and he was one present short. 

_Dragon’s Toy Lair_ was supposedly one of the best wooden toy shops in all of Muggle London, and for being such a terrible godfather, Harry was willing to brave the snowstorm to get to it. 

A bell jingled when he opened the door, and Harry stepped graciously into the warmth that the shop offered. There was nobody else inside, not even a shopkeeper, and Harry worried that he’d come in just as the shop was going to close. 

He jumped when something soft brushed against his leg. Looking down, he was surprised to see a fluffy white cat nuzzling its head against his jeans. 

“Hello, kitty,” Harry murmured softly, crouching down and offering two fingers to the cat who eagerly rubbed its face against them. “You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?”

A door clicked open and shut somewhere in the shop, followed by footsteps which must have belonged to the shopkeeper. 

“Hello, sorry I was out back, I...Potter?!”

Harry froze; he would recognise that crisp, cultured voice anywhere. He looked up, meeting the steel-grey gaze of Draco Malfoy. 

Harry swallowed heavily. Malfoy looked _good_. His ice white hair was styled impeccably, coiffed on top and framing the sharp, sleek lines of his face. His tall frame was clad in a form fitting black jumper and skin-tight black jeans which clung to shapely thighs. Harry bit his lip, his stomach twisting at the sight in that confusing way which he’d grown accustomed to. 

The cat left Harry to go and nuzzle happily against Malfoy, whose expression softened as he looked down at the animal. His features remained pleasant even as he returned his attention back to Harry, though after a moment Malfoy seemed to realise this and slipped into a mask of indifference. 

“Er, hello,” Harry said, when it became apparent that Malfoy wasn’t going to say anything more. “I’ve come to buy a toy.”

“Fancy that, with you being in a toy shop,” Malfoy quipped, and Harry felt his face flush. 

Malfoy’s words contained no malice, and if anything he looked faintly amused. The look was good on Malfoy, who looked far more attractive without a twist of contempt on his lips. Harry’s stomach twisted in that confused way again at the thought. 

“I heard this was the best place to buy wooden toys,” Harry said, all too aware of the fixated gaze that Malfoy had on him. “I need to get something for my godson; he’s five.”

Malfoy nodded. “It is the best place. I ensure I craft every single toy with perfection.”

“You make these all yourself?” Harry asked in surprise, eyes darted to a display of beautifully painted horses circled around an intricate carousel. “They’re amazing.”

“A compliment from the great Harry Potter?” Malfoy clutched his chest. “I can die happy now.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “You’re still a prat, I see.”

“Oh, take a joke, Potter,” Malfoy retorted, waving a hand dismissively. “You ought to smile more. I’ve never seen it directed at me, but I remember you have quite a glorious smile.”

Harry’s heart skipped a beat, and he smiled despite himself. “Really?”

Malfoy nodded. “There we go, and just as glorious as I thought. I know I’m also a sight to behold, but perhaps you better browse for a present if you want your godson to receive it by Christmas.”

Harry flushed again. “Right. I’ll do that.”

Even as he moved amongst the pretty dolls, handsome soldiers, wild dragons, and sleek trains, Harry could barely focus on the toys. He could appreciate the beauty in their detail, and the hard work that clearly went into every single one, but it was hard to concentrate on them while he could feel Malfoy’s eyes intently focused on him. 

Twice now he had caught Malfoy’s gaze, but Malfoy had never shied away when Harry caught him; only smirked and licked his lips hungrily. Harry wondered if his face was going to be in a constant state of flushing from now on, because that was how it felt. 

He chose a toy soldier in the end, painted in vibrant shades of red, green, and blue, with a glimmer of silver on the delicately drawn sword. He took it to the front desk, and watched, transfixed, as Malfoy’s long, elegant fingers wrapped the soldier up in wrapping paper. Harry wondered what those fingers would feel like brushing against his skin, or exploring him in intimate places that Harry had only considered in dreams in the middle of the night. He shivered at the thought. 

“There you go,” Malfoy said, his fingers brushing against Harry’s as he pushed the wrapped toy towards him. Malfoy’s skin was soft, and cool to the touch, yet somehow Harry’s fingers burned from the touch. “I’m sure your godson will love it. Perhaps you could tell me about his reaction over dinner sometime.”

Harry’s heart plummeted into his stomach. “I...I mean...I…”

Malfoy’s expression darkened. “Forget it. Have a good Christmas, Potter.”

“No!” Harry cried. “It’s not that! I mean...you were asking me out, like as a date, weren’t you?”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “On anyone else I wouldn’t find this obliviousness endearing, yet on you I do. But yes, Potter, I meant as a date. Merlin knows why, but I’m very attracted to you and I don’t particularly want to wait another fifteen years to see you again before I can ask.” 

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Harry said, wringing his hands together as his brain tried to think of the words to convey the feelings he’d been struggling with for far too long. “I just...I don’t know what I am. I fancy women, and I think I fancy men too, but I don’t know. It’s confusing, and I’ve never gone out with a man and I don’t want to hurt anyone by finding out I’ve actually been wrong, and-”

He fell silent as Malfoy pressed a finger against his lips. “Kiss me then,” he said simply. “If it feels right, then you can thank me for helping you by going on a date with me. If it feels wrong, then I’ll let you go with no hard feelings and we can pretend I never asked you out in the first place.”

“Er, okay,” Harry said, his breath hitching in his throat as Malfoy moved round the desk to be closer to him. Malfoy was taller than Harry realised, having a good two inches on Harry. Harry would have to lean up to kiss him, to move his lips against Malfoy’s own, plush, red, plump ones. 

“I can tell you’re nervous, but you look eager too,” Malfoy said, sounding faintly amused. “I think I know what your answer is going to be, but I’ll let you find it out for yourself.”

Harry nodded, and swallowed heavily. He pressed up on the balls of his feet, his mouth hovering just inches over Malfoy’s. His heart pulsed with anxiety and excitement, and he could feel his fingers trembling; he pushed them against Malfoy’s side to ease their shaking. 

“I said you could kiss me, not that I’d kiss you,” Malfoy teased. “Sometime before Christmas, if you please.”

Summoning all his Gryffindor courage, Harry eased in the rest of the way and pressed their lips together. He melted almost immediately at the touch, pleasure bursting through him at the feel of Malfoy’s soft mouth moving against his own. Malfoy drew Harry’s lower lip between his own and nibbled ever so slightly with teeth, and Harry’s knees almost buckled at the sensation. He realised belatedly that the reason they didn’t was because Malfoy’s arms were around his waist, holding him firmly. 

They pulled away from the kiss when the need for air became too much. Harry smiled dazedly, reluctant to let go of Malfoy. Malfoy hadn’t released his hold on Harry, though, so Harry figured he was safe to carry on holding him. 

“So I think I’m definitely bisexual,” Harry said, the words forgein yet right on his tongue. “It only took me thirty-three years before I figured it out.”

“Better late than never,” Malfoy said softly, pressing a gentle kiss against Harry’s forehead. “So if I were to ask you again if you’d like to get dinner sometime?”

Harry smiled. “I’d love to.”


End file.
